


The Good Sport

by Bryonia_Alba



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-19
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-21 03:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bryonia_Alba/pseuds/Bryonia_Alba
Summary: Harry loses a bet. He’s an exceptionally good sport about paying the penalty.





	The Good Sport

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hpslashnotsmut Round 1, 2006.

Nobody, Harry thought ruefully, could accuse Draco Malfoy of going back on his word, particularly when a wager was involved.

The payment for losing the bet on the championship match between the Falmouth Falcons and the Caerphilly Catapults was to kiss Draco in front of the entire Pride of Portree squad in the team’s changing room. Harry had assumed Draco meant actual squad members, maybe a few of the reserves. He hadn’t expected not only the entire playing roster, but coaches, trainers, equipment managers, and so on to appear as well.

Draco must have been very sure of victory this year. Harry made a mental note never to assume anything regarding Malfoy again.

The gathered audience parted as Harry made his way toward Draco, reforming behind him so that the two stood at the centre of a loose circle in the middle of the changing room. The faces surrounding them were full of amusement, even jolly as they awaited the coming spectacle.

“I was beginning to think you were going to welsh on the bet,” Draco said, his grin smug, his arms folded across his chest as he looked Harry up and down. “I told you they’d win, and handily.”

It was all Harry could do not to roll his eyes at the pun. “Next time I won’t wager against Caerphilly. I wasn’t aware an audience was part of the deal, though.”

Draco’s smile widened. “I thought it would add flavour…in a manner of speaking.” His tone turned brisk, arms falling to his sides as he raised his voice so the others could hear. “The terms were that if our Seeker lost the bet, he would have to kiss me for the same number of seconds as there was a point difference in the match between Falmouth and Caerphilly. The Catapults won by one hundred twenty points, which means he owes me a two minute long kiss. And, Harry?”

“Yes?” He just wanted it over and done so he could go to the nearest pub.

“Make it somewhat believable, won’t you?”

The circle of onlookers laughed and jeered. “Pretend he’s your girlfriend of the week!” someone called.

“Which one?” cried another amid more raucous laughter. “His, or Malfoy’s?”

This time, Harry did roll his eyes. “Oh, shut up and start timing,” he snapped, nearly snarled. Crossing the remaining short distance separating him and Draco, he wrapped both arms around the shorter man and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Don’t say you never asked for this,” he told Draco, voice pitched to a low murmur so the others couldn’t hear. Draco had just enough time to blink in surprise before Harry’s mouth descended – no, crashed against his.

The reserve Seeker wanted a show for their team mates and co-workers? Harry wasn’t going to disappoint. His tongue pressed against Malfoy’s lips, teasing them apart until Draco opened up and let him inside. He stood stiffly within Harry’s arms, hands pressed against his upper arms as if to push him away, even as he acquiesced beneath the pressure of Harry’s lips and tongue.

Draco tasted like ale, warm and smooth, with an underlying bitterness. Harry bit back a moan as he stroked his tongue along Malfoy’s, feeling the rough yet velvety texture, before letting the two curl and intertwine around the other, tangling and weaving.

“Thirty seconds!” he dimly heard one of the coaches shout gleefully. “Look at ‘em go!”

Harry shut them out, and concentrated instead on the sheer pleasure of kissing Draco. He noticed that the other man’s hands weren’t pushing against him quite as hard, that his body had relaxed against his own, becoming more pliant, even boneless.

Well, he amended about twenty seconds later, mostly boneless.

Redoubling his efforts, Harry focused on Draco, plundering his mouth, sliding his hands up and cupping Draco’s head between his palms, fingers threading through soft, silky hair. He varied the pressure against Draco’s lips, alternating between deep kisses and tiny nibbles along his lower lip, between stroking his tongue along Draco’s, or tangling fiercely.

He nearly laughed as he felt Malfoy’s growing response pressed against his thigh, heard the small moan, almost a whimper. His fingers dug into Harry’s shoulders, kneading the muscles there unconsciously, nearly clinging.

Vaguely, he heard voices, counting down the seconds until whoever it was with the watch called, “Two minutes!” Never had two minutes lasted so long, or flown by so quickly all at the same time.

Releasing Draco, Harry stood back, grinning as they were surrounded, wincing beneath the sheer number of back-slapping and shoulder-nudging as their team mates pounded them, laughing like loons.

“Good show, mate…”

“You’re braver than I am…!”

“I couldn’t have done it…”

“Sure you could, and you would have liked it…”

“Bugger off…”

Draco smiled weakly, raising a hand to touch swollen lips and looking completely flustered as his eyes met Harry’s. “All right there?” he asked, swallowing with obvious effort. “I don’t know about you, but my throat’s a bit dry.”

“Mine too,” Harry admitted, his own throat making a small clicking noise. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but this calls for a drink.” Raising his voice, he shouted, “Leaky Cauldron, my treat! We’ll meet you there!”

The offer was greeted with the expected response at the prospect of free pints, and the changing room quickly emptied as people Disapparated until Harry and Draco were the only two remaining. The moment they were alone Harry pulled Draco back into his arms, nuzzling his throat.

“You do smugness so well,” he murmured. “Do you think they caught on that it wasn’t an act?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Draco answered, his arms going around Harry’s waist, pulling him closer. “I overheard Jenkins saying what a good sport you were for agreeing to do it at all.”

“Oh, I’m definitely that. It’s the Gryffindor in me, you know.”

“I’m just glad I won the bet.” Draco captured Harry’s lower lip between his teeth, biting down gently. “I don’t think I would’ve fancied tossing off in the shower where anyone could see.”

“You should talk! You were the one who called up the entire damn organisation to witness a bit of snogging! You’re an exhibitionist, admit it.” Harry sighed, drawing Draco into another lush kiss. “You’ll have to put on a private demonstration for me later.”

Draco chuckled deep in his chest. “Maybe.” Drawing back, he slung an arm across Harry’s shoulders. “We’d best head over before the others start wondering. And before you ask, no, I won’t help pay for the drinks. That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“I didn’t think so. It is rather sporting of me though, isn’t it?”

“That, or incredibly stupid.” Draco grinned. “Let’s go.”

The changing room echoed with their twin cracks of Disapparition.


End file.
